The guards gripped my upper arms behind my back, pushed me toward the door and I didn’t resist. Not this time, not with handcuffs on. The wild Kung Fu moves I’d used on the other guard still upset me. It was like an alien had taken over my body and I’d just been along for the ride. It had been real sci-fi movie kind of insanity, and I wanted no part of it. Except I was all “it.”
The ride to the police station, or whatever they called it here, was shorter than I’d hoped. Less than twenty minutes later I was being led inside, scanned and scowled at and generally disliked instantly by anyone who saw the handcuffs. I was used to being adored by human and animal alike.
But they weren’t human, no matter how much this looked or felt like home. I had to remember that.
They didn’t take me to a cell. Instead, they dumped me into a room I recognized from watching one too many thriller movies. Dum-dum-dah—the interrogation room. Cold table. Stark white walls. One chair, presumably mine, bolted to the floor.
I thought they’d chain me down, but apparently, they didn’t think I was much of a threat because the cuffs were removed and I was told to sit.
Sit. And wait.
4
Faith, police headquarters, interrogation room #3
I’d never been to a police station before, even on Earth. I hadn’t really ever met a police officer. One had come to my second-grade classroom to give a talk about stranger danger, but that was as close as I’d ever gotten. I just never felt the need to break the law. Laugh at the rules? Push the envelope. Every day. But actually break the law?
That was more my twin sister, Destiny’s, style.
Trinity had been the one to steal some of the neighbor’s flowers to make a bouquet for Mother’s Day. While it had been taking something that hadn’t belonged to her, and our mother had required her to confess her transgression to poor Mrs. Kluger while holding a handful of the old woman’s prized daffodils and tulips, it hadn’t been serial killer level problems
Destiny had stolen a lipstick from the dollar store once. Mom had dragged her back, made her tell the manager, bought the lipstick, and then my poor twin had to wash dishes after dinner every night for a month to pay Mom back. Ridiculous since it had only been a dollar, but at ten years old, she’d learned tough love.
Yet here I was, the most innocent of the trio, and these people thought I was an assassin? I was the one sitting in police custody. I couldn’t really blame them since I’d attacked the one officer. But what was going to happen now? I’d been sitting here for at least an hour—it felt that way since there was no clock—waiting. I had to pee and I wondered if making me uncomfortable was part of their scare tactic.
Deny me a bathroom, food and water, sleep. Was I in for waterboarding, too?
Lord Jax had been disappointed. I’d seen the sad, resigned look in his eyes and the slump of his shoulders. He wasn’t going to rescue me. He wanted answers.
Lady Jax? Ha! Enough said there. She lived to make me feel small.
And Thor? God, my body heated just thinking of him. I raised my hands to my lips, felt them still tingle from his aggressive kisses. My nipples had a mind of their own and formed hard points beneath my bra. Instant attraction wasn’t going to save me. He might want to fuck me, but he hadn’t been thinking with the head in his pants there at the end. It felt good to know he wouldn’t fuck anyone, especially a potential planetary threat like me.
His cock had some discretion, or at least his mind did.
And as for me, did I have any discretion left? I had no idea if he were mated, widowed or what. He might even have kids at home and I’d been ready to climb him like a monkey. I wasn’t a virgin, but I was careful. Until now. Until this stupid Ardor.
I shifted in my chair. No, I was selective. I’d found other household staff attractive, had a few of the hotter Aleran males make my Ardor simmer, but I hadn’t been ready to ride them like a cowgirl. It was Thor who made me forget everything except all that hard, thick length he had in his pants.
I licked my lips, wondering what his skin would taste like. It was hard to remember he could possibly be the traitor himself. Someone had sent Zel to kill us that first night, and then again to kidnap Trinity at the reception. All signs led to the Jax family, and yet I was thinking about a possible suspect taking me slowly, or shoving me against the wall and fucking me like a wild man.
I was trying to decide which I would prefer—slow or hard—when the door of the interrogation room opened and in came one, two… four men.
My cheeks heated, although I knew they couldn’t read my thoughts.
“I am Inspector Wyse,” the first one said. Based on his outfit and demeanor, it was clear he was in charge. “Lord of the Wyse family and the Inspector Optimi in the Optimus unit. Do you know what that means?”
Shit.
I had heard about them from mother for years. They were the detective, judge and jury all in one. He could decide I was guilty and lock me away for years, especially being Inspector Optimi, fancy title for head honcho.
All of a sudden I wished I was back home with an overworked public defender. My dad was a judge. He loved the rule of law.
This man clearly loved power.
Inspector Wyse appeared to be in his late sixties, maybe even early seventies. Graying hair, deep lines in his chiseled features. But his spine was straight, his bearing, no nonsense. I got not one bit of kindness off him. He was all business, and his business today was me.
Based on their uniforms, two of the males with him were police officers. Their clothing matched those who came to the Jax house and took me away. The other guy looked like an evil sidekick. His eyes were deeply set and looked dead. No hint of laughter or amusement there. A deep scar slashed down the side of his face in a hook-like shape from the corner of his mouth down past his jaw. His uniform was clearly military, but basic black. No insignia or house symbols. He could have been anyone. Anything.